


Kanar, Tarkalean tea and Delavian chocolates

by thesadchicken



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I just wanted a place where I could post all my little one-shots, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Cardassia, Pre-Slash, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 18:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12659184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesadchicken/pseuds/thesadchicken
Summary: A miscellany of short stories about Elim Garak and Julian Bashir. Little scenes from their life together, before and after Deep Space Nine.Or a bunch of one-shots about two nerds who fell in love.





	Kanar, Tarkalean tea and Delavian chocolates

**Author's Note:**

> Kanar is Garak's favorite drink; Tarkalean Tea is Julian's.  
> They are both very fond of Delavian chocolates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one-shot was written for my dragon cuddle-buddy.  
> I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

_Dripdripdrip_. It was raining. Raindrops everywhere; on the muddy Cardassian streets, over the houses, under the rubble and onto the recovering city.

 _Dripdripdrip_ on the windowpanes, _dripdripdrip_ was all Julian could hear. And then Garak shifted in bed, and strong scaled arms slid across Julian’s chest as his partner pulled him close.

It had been two months since Julian had arrived on Cardassia. Two months since he’d stood in front of Garak’s door, soaked and shivering. Two months since Garak had opened that door and Julian’s mouth had collided with his, and Garak had chuckled, and Julian had smiled. _Hold me, I need you. Hold me, we’ll talk later_.

Two months of pure happiness.

It had been raining that day too. The day Julian had decided it was time to put an end to the letters, to the heartache, to the sea of stars between them. The day Garak had decided he wanted Julian here with him, on Cardassia – _please stay, my dear_. _I need you_.

And now they were in bed, naked and warm under the sheets, limbs tangled, breaths mingling. Their bodies were limp with love and exhaustion. They were facing each other, looking into each other’s eyes, and the silence was only interrupted by the rain drip-drip-dripping onto the windowpanes and roof.

Garak’s eyes were impossible blue. _Dripdripdrip_ , went the rain. Julian slowly lifted a finger and traced the line of his partner’s ridges, carefully, lovingly, relishing each dent and callus. _Boomboomboom_ , went Julian’s heart.

A smile tugged at Garak’s lips. White lips, so delicate and inviting _, my goodness_ – Julian leaned in and placed the softest of pecks onto them. Garak hummed in appreciation and closed his eyes.

“Kiss me again, please,” the older man whispered.

Julian placed a hand on either side of Garak’s face and kissed him. _Dripdripdrip_. Three times in a row, the raindrops sang their little song, and still their lips were locked. Garak’s lower lip trembled, and Julian sucked on it gently before pulling away. “Are you cold?” he murmured against the Cardassian’s cheek.

Garak pressed his body into Julian’s and sighed. “My scales aren’t what they used to be, I’m afraid. There was a time when I could spend entire nights out in the bitter cold – times when I slept in Andorian prison cells for months.”

Julian didn’t like to think of those times. “Shhh, you whiny old dragon,” he teased, “I’ll go get a blanket and something warm to drink.”

As Julian pushed himself out of Garak’s embrace and off the bed, he heard his partner groan in protest. “Stay, my dear,” he pleaded, and it was that exact same demand he had made two months ago.

 _Dripdripdrip_.

Julian stood in the middle of the room – it could be _their_ room, he realized – and stared down at Garak, who was still sprawled on the bed. He hadn’t given the Cardassian a clear answer. Not yet. It had never been the right time to think about it. Never the right time to have that conversation.

 _Our house. Our room. Our bed_. He tried them all out in his head and realized it wasn’t really that hard to imagine. He wouldn’t even need to get used to anything: he already felt at home here. He already loved this broken city and its broken people – already wanted to help them heal.

Garak shivered under the too-thin sheets, and Julian shook his head. “Wait a minute,” he said, and hurried out of the room to the kitchen, where he asked the replicator for two cups of hot Tarkalean tea, regular and extra sweet. He then walked into a small, empty room – it had once been a study, Garak had told him, before the war had ravaged the city and this house with it – and opened a dusty drawer. Inside was a pair of wool blankets. He grabbed one and headed back to the kitchen, where he slid the blanket under his arm and picked up the two mugs of Tarkalean tea.

Julian’s bare feet slapped against the cool floor. He took a deep breath, the smell of tea tickling his nostrils. This – this felt like _home_. He hadn’t felt this peaceful since… since Deep Space Nine, the way it was before the war, before all the death. When they had all been there together, happy. Julian had thought he would never feel that way again.

He slipped into bed, pushing one of the mugs into Garak’s waiting hands. He then spread the blanket onto the bed, over Garak’s shivering form.

“Thank you, dearest,” Garak purred, smiling, pressing back into Julian’s body, into Julian’s warmth.

He had really thought he would never feel peace like this again. And yet here he was, on a lazy rainy morning, cuddling with Garak in bed, the smell of Tarkalean tea filling the sun-splattered room and the rain drip-drip-dripping onto the roof. That was another thing about Cardassia; it was almost always sunny, even when it rained.

Garak took a sip of his tea and sighed contentedly. Julian did the same, savoring the feeling of the hot liquid trickling down his throat. Utter peace; utter happiness.

“Julian,” Garak’s voice was soft, distant, dreamy.

“Yes?” Julian set his mug down on the nightstand and then turned to fully face his partner. Sunlight bounced off Garak’s ebony hair and his eyes gleamed with something alien… something charming, and cunning, and clever, and Julian was in love with every bit of it, every breath escaping those pale lips…

“Will you stay?”

A whisper. A tentative smile. Julian watched his lover tilt his head to the side, burying his cheek into the pillow. Charming and clever and cunning. And impossible to resist.

Julian felt the blush that spread onto his cheeks. “Always, Elim,” he said, and Garak’s eyes softened.

 _Dripdripdrip_. It was raining.  Raindrops everywhere.

They spent the day in bed, somewhere between dreams and reality. These days, both seemed to intertwine rather often. Sometimes Julian couldn’t tell if he was dreaming or not. Could it all be true, all this perfect, perfect happiness?

Yes, it was all true. All of it. Garak’s voice, Garak’s quiet laugh, Garak’s blue eyes, Garak’s tender kisses.  Sharing thoughts on the balcony, watching the broken city recover. Sharing heat under the covers, Garak’s hands on Julian’s body, Garak’s heart beating against Julian’s chest. The teasing and flirting and laughter and trust and friendship.

 _Dripdripdrip_. Julian was staying. And if it rained every day until the end of his life, he wouldn’t mind it, not one bit.

 _Dripdripdrip_. “I’m so in love with you,” he whispered, placing a kiss on Garak’s nose.

“I know,” Garak whispered back, “so am I.”


End file.
